


Secrets in the Dark

by Tegaladwen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tegaladwen/pseuds/Tegaladwen
Summary: Emma's having nightmares about her past. Can Killian come to her rescue? Takes place in Neverland, early season 3.





	1. Emma

Hook jolted awake to a voice, whimpering softly, carried over to him by the wind.  _ What the hell? _

He glanced around the camp. David and Snow White were tangled in each other's arms, as always. Regina was fast asleep, face almost angry. As usual.

His eyes traveled automatically to Emma, tossing and turning on the rough ground about ten feet away from him. Hook looked closer, noticing her lips moving. She looked like she was in pain.

Shit. It was her making the agonized sounds.

He hopped to his feet, walking over to her. He couldn't pretend he hadn't heard her thrash in her dreams before. Almost every day since they had gotten to the bloody island, her dreams had been riddled with nightmares. Every time, he had cringed with every small gasp, every sound he could barely hear. They always passed quickly however, gone before he could make it to her. But today was different. Her nightmare was worse, more intense. So intense, in fact, that tears were threatening to run down her face in her sleep.

Killian crouched next her her. He was about to wake her up when he noticed that she was talking. He paused, cursing the pirate inside him as he eavesdropped on a conversation he was never supposed to hear. He sighed, listening to her distraught words.

"Stop, please, please, stop! I'll be good, I promise! I'll do everything right! I'll keep my room clean, I'll cook dinner, I'll- please, please don't! Give me another chance, please! No, no, no, no, not again, no! Just let me sleep tonight, let me be alone, please, I promise I'll- NO, NO, STOP! That hurts, it hurts, please stop!"

What was this? Amemory? It certainly sounded like it. What was happening? He winced as she whimpered again. He hated seeing her in pain. "Swan," Killian whispered, his good hand hovering over her shoulder, wondering whether it was safer to wake her or let the nightmare wake her on its own. His experience with nightmares (unfortunately, he was well versed on the topic) had taught him that sometimes, it was better to let them run their course instead of cutting them short. It lessened the risk of the vivid images reappearing to haunt you again. He wrestled with himself.

Voice shuddering, Emma talked in her sleep once more, this time in a pained whimper. "Please let me go," she stopped. "Dad."

_ What the hell?  _ Killian whipped his head around towards David. He had just started to trust the heroic man. What had the eloquent Prince Charming done to her?

He began to get to his feet. But wait, what if it wasn't David she was talking about? After all, this was  _ Neverland.  _ People here had a special affinity for staying young. So, naturally, when adults visited, their minds flashed back to days long past. So what if this was another father? A childhood father? Killian knew that Emma didn't grow up with her biological parents. And he didn't exactly hear the Savior calling David "Dad" that often, anyway.

His thought process was abruptly interrupted by Emma, who began violently thrashing on the ground, fighting off invisible demons in her dreams.

"Emma! Emma!" he said quietly, so as not to wake the others. He had to wake her now before she hurt herself. He gripped her arm, holding it down. Unfortunately, he couldn't pin down the other one, what with his missing hand and all.

Surprised at her decreased mobility, Emma awoke with a start, eyes wide and panicky. Violently, she fought him, throwing his arm off of hers. She sat up quickly.

"Emma" Killian cried out in astonishment. "Emma, love, it's me! It's Hook! It's Killian Jones!"

Her fight fading, she finally saw him. "Hook?" she asked, glancing around as if she was still trying to figure out where she was.

"Yes, love. It's Hook," he replied warily.

She smiled sheepishly, but her eyes were still terrified. "Sorry about that."

"Care to tell me what's going on?" he asked. The tremors in her voice didn't escape his attention.

Her eyes abruptly lost their frightened tone. "No, actually, I don't." She turned away from him.

Hook reached out to grab her arm, but pulled back when she flinched at his touch. "Emma, you sounded like you were fighting off someone. You were screaming in your sleep."

"It was just a nightmare, Hook. go back to bed," she replied, but Killian didn't believe it. Emma put her head in her shaking hands, taking a few deep breaths.

"No, it wasn't, love," he whispered, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shied away from him once more. "That didn't sound like a regular nightmare." He paused, looking for some sort of reaction. "You know, sometimes the best way to get them to go away is to talk to someone."

Something like a laugh sounded in Emma's throat. "Like you would know," she said, voice trembling a little bit. She was still scared.

"Unfortunately, lass, I do know." When she still didn't respond, he continued, "It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes, Emma."

She looked up at him, expression full of agony and fear. Killian was taken aback by the tears in her eyes, and by how unguarded she was. He wanted to reach out and touch her, pull her in close, but his hand remained clenched tightly on his lap.

Killian watched a range of emotions play out on her face. She was deciding whether or not to trust him.

"Do you really want to know, Hook?" she asked, voice shuddering under the weight of unshed tears. "Because I can promise you, you'll never look at me the same way after I tell you."

Killian's eyebrows drew together. What could her secret possibly be? Slowly, his eyes on Emma's, he curled his hand around one of hers. This time, she didn't flinch away, though she watched him warily. "Of course I want to know, darling," he whispered.

Emma glanced away for a moment, a lone tear carving it's way down the planes of her face.

"Swan," he whispered. He wanted to do something, he wanted to help her. But he didn't know how he could.

"I've never told this to anyone, Hook."

Killian nodded in understanding. He had no desire to share her secret.

Emma sighed and looked down at their clasped hands, deciding how to begin. She bit her lip. Finally, she whispered, "Do you know what rape is, Killian?"

Hook exhaled quickly, heart leaping in his chest. His grip tightened involuntarily on Emma's fingers.  _ Rape _ . That's what this was about. _ It hurts, it hurts, please stop!  _ Her nightmare-ridden voice sounded in his head.

Killian had known a boy, a good boy, who had gone through that awful experience at the hands of a drunken sailor. Afterwards, it was like he was empty. Killian, being little more than a child himself, had pestered him until he revealed his secret, then avoided him altogether when he didn't know how to respond. When they saw each other again almost a year later, the boy had stopped talking altogether. It was like he had left his body, leaving an empty shell behind. Eventually, he cut his own arms so deeply that he bled out on the street. To think that  _ Emma  _ had gone through that same horrible experience...

Emma still didn't look up at him as her fingers tightened on his.

"When I was twelve, I went to a new family. A single guy. He said he wanted a foster daughter, and he took me home. His name was Larry." She paused for a moment.

Hook ran his thumb over the back of her hand briefly, trying to comfort her.

A mirthless smile graced her face momentarily, and she continued. "At first it was alright, living with him. He wanted me to call him Dad, and I did. He'd have me doing chores, and I was okay with that. He would hug me, and kiss me, and comfort me when I cried," Emma's voice broke.

Once she composed herself, she continued. "Then, I forgot to make my bed once, and I apologized over and over, but he still got mad, and he h-hit me."

Killian's hand tightened on hers. He wanted to say something, but what was there to say?

"And it just got worse. He started telling me I'd forgotten things when I hadn't, or he would h-hurt me for forgetting things he hadn't even told me to do. And then he started coming in my room at night," her voice faded out for a second as more tears dripped from her face, one of them falling on Killian's hand.

"He would m-m-molest me, and tell me that it was my fault, that I had done those things to him, made him f-feel a-aroused on purpose. And I tried to stop, but I couldn't, and he kept doing it. He would t-touch me and t-touch himself, and I  _ tried _ ," she stopped talking as her voice broke again.

Killian felt sick. How could someone do this to her? A  _ child _ , twelve years old. How? He wanted to throw up. Tears had started falling down his face, too. Emma had to know that this wasn't her fault. That man, _ Larry _ , had done something so wrong, so awful, and it had scarred her, probably irreversibly. "Emma, I-" he started, voice breaking.

"And then, one night, it got really bad," she began again, cutting him off. "He had gone out to drink, and he came back really late, and his voice was slurring, and he kept saying it was  _ my fault, my fault _ , over and over again, and he slapped me in the face, and he threw me on my bed, and I was scared, and I yelled at him to stop, but he wouldn't, and he pulled down his pants,and he... h-he.." Emma's voice faltered, then she broke down completely, sobbing.

Killian leaned forward, pulling Emma into an embrace. She buried her head in his shoulder, holding onto him as if he was her last hope in the world. And maybe he was.

Killian felt her body shaking with sobs underneath his. He stroked her back lightly, unsure of what to say.

"I... I couldn't-" she started to say.

"Emma, love, it's alright. It's going to be alright," Killian soothed her, kissing her hair.

She pulled away from him slowly and looked into his eyes. "Hook," she whispered, wiping the tears off her face. "I-I'm sorry."

Killian cocked his head slightly. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

Emma looked away. It was obvious she didn't believe him.

She had had to carry this secret her whole life, carry the guilt that came with it. That feeling of filth that never comes off had followed Emma her whole life. And now she felt like she had somehow given it to  _ him. _

"God, Emma, what happened to you was not your fault," he reached out to grip her hand once more, but she pulled back. Her walls were being rebuilt as they spoke.

"Swan, you did nothing wrong. You didn't  _ do  _ anything to that man. None of that guilt should be bearing down on you. Every bit of the fault is on  _ him _ . That sick, disgusting  _ bastard  _ who did those things to you."

"Hook, I c-" she paused and looked at him once more, her gaze almost awestruck. "You really don't... look at me differently?"

Killian blinked back tears, heart in his chest at her insecurity and surprise. "Swan, of  _ course  _ not."

Emma searched his eyes for some sign of a lie, and when she found none, a small smile graced her lips. She would never have guessed that anyone, especially  _ Captain Hook _ , would be so supportive. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Aye," Killian replied, reaching up to wipe away a few fallen tears of his own.

"Good night, Hook," she said softly. Their conversation was over.

He stood up slowly and walked back to his side of the camp. "Swan. If you ever need to talk, you can come to me. I will listen."

Emma nodded as she curled herself into a ball on the ground.

"I will," he murmured, feeling the pure truth in his words as he spoke them.

Killian watched Emma's back until the rise and fall of her breaths became steady and even.

Then, the former pirate closed his eyes and attempted to get some much needed rest.


	2. Killian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma put her trust in Captain Hook and talked about her past. Now, it's Killian's turn.

Emma Swan yawned, opening her eyes blearily. She felt as good as she could, considering everything going on. Henry’s absence was still pulling relentlessly on her heartstrings, but for the first time in what felt like  _ weeks,  _ she was actually rested.

She ran her fingers through her long hair and took a deep breath. Thinking about Henry made her chest ache. He was her kid, her savior, and she loved him so much. She couldn't help but think about him all the time, worry about him, wonder what he was doing, or what was being done to him--

No. She couldn't think like that. Henry was fine. He had to be fine. Emma  _ would  _ see him again.

Slowly, she sat up and cracked her back. The ground was hard and uneven, and nearly impossible to sleep on. It was a miracle she'd gotten comfortable at all, especially now that her once-recurring nightmares were making a reappearance.

_ Shit. Speaking of which...  _ Emma sneaked a peek over at Hook, who was still sleeping heavily as he always was early in the morning.

She sighed, remembering their conversation from the night before. She had  _ bawled in his arms _ . She had told him her biggest secret, one she had never shared in her life. She trusted  _ Captain Hook  _ of all people _.  _ The fairy tale villain. The dashing scoundrel known (at least at home) for going after young kids. Clearly, that impression was wrong, but it was hard to shake the stories she’d grown up with.

Even more surprising was the fact that he had  _ listened.  _ He had listened to every word of what she said, and he had supported her. He had helped her through the emotions she was feeling, and afterwards, he didn't see her differently. She had looked into his eyes, and she hadn’t seen pity. There was sadness, yes, but he didn't see her as a kicked puppy or a child. She had looked into his eyes and she saw sympathy and awe. He understood just how hard she’d worked to get through all of this, and it, shockingly, had showed in his gaze.

And she had cried. He had told her it was okay, it was going to be  _ okay.  _ He’d known the exact words she needed to hear, and she’d believed every syllable.

Sighing, Emma ran her fingers through her hair. Everything felt different now. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest. Or, at least, it had been lessened considerably. She supposed it was because she shared her burden, for the first time. And instead of holding her down, as she thought it would, it was lifting her up. That connection made her feel strong. Everything felt new in her eyes. Especially Hook.

Noticing Snow's waking eyes, she tore off her left shoe, like she did every morning, and threw it at Killian's sleeping form.

"AAH!" Hook shot up into a sitting position, brandishing his hook in fear.

Emma couldn't help but break into a bright smile.

"Swan!" Killian cried playfully, tossing her footwear back to her. She caught it and pulled it back onto her foot.

Glancing over at him again, she studied his face, searching for a sign of something, a sign that last night hadn't been some sick dream. Killian looked back into her eyes and nodded slightly in reassurance.

Quickly, she looked away, suddenly unsure of whether she wanted to go over and talk to him or ignore him completely.

She hopped to her feet and took the map that Peter Pan had given to her out of her pocket.

"We need to go... that way," she called to the rest of the group, who were awakening with various degrees of energy.

"And you're sure that's the direction to get to the Lost Boys' camp?" Regina asked skeptically. She was always suspicious, especially when her son was on the line.

"That's what the map says," Emma replied, tone a little less cold than it usually would have been.

Regina pursed her lips and started off into the woods.

Immediately, Emma followed after her, denying herself another glance towards the pirate. She didn't think she could deal with last night's emotions as well as the ones crowding her brain right now, the ones about her Henry.

Throughout that day's trek, Emma avoided Killian Jones. He had made one attempt to converse with her, but she pulled him aside and said sharply, "Hook, I'm sorry, but I really need to focus my energy on Henry."

When he had looked hurt, she continued in a softer tone, "Look, I just really need my space right now, especially with this mission in my hands. We'll talk later, okay?"

Killian nodded, expression softening a little.. "Aye."

Satisfied that he understood, she continued, pulling out the map for what must have been the twentieth time that day. "What the hell?"

"What? What is it?" Snow said from behind her.

"The camp... it- it moved!" She panicked, clenching and unclenching her fists. If that son of a bitch had sent her on a wild goose chase, there was going to be hell to pay, whether Peter was a minor or not. Her  _ son  _ was missing. This was not even remotely alright.

"Let me see," Snow held out her hand for the map. Emma handed it over, hands shaking, trying to keep the glaze of red from overtaking her vision entirely. "Oh my god, Emma, you're right."

"It's on the other side of the goddamn island," Emma said, teeth clenched together.

"What's going on?" Regina's powerful voice sounded in Emma's years.

"The map. It changed."

"What?" Regina pulled it out of Snow's hands, inspecting it for herself. "What do we do now?"

David stopped and looked at the sky. "It's getting light out. We should probably set up camp and figure this out tomorrow." He ignored Regina’s reluctance, then leaned close to his daughter. "We'll find him, Emma. Henry's okay. Just have hope."

Emma nodded slightly, blinking back tears of anger and despair. She was going to  _ kill  _ Peter Pan.

* * *

Long after everyone else was asleep, Emma was still wide awake, fuming. That son of a bitch had tricked her. For all she knew, she could have been going in the wrong direction the entire time.

Worry twisted her stomach. She clenched the hem of her shirt in her fist. Henry was under the control, the sick, twisted control of a teenager who was having some sort of sick, diabolical fun. Who knew what could have happened to him? Or what  _ was  _ happening? Henry could be  _ dying  _ and Emma couldn't do anything about it.

She sighed loudly and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep. She was no use to the rest of the company if she was stumbling through the forest, barely functional. Emma tried in vain to calm herself down.

"Swan?" Killian whispered. "Are you awake?"

At first, Emma considered staying silent. She wasn't sure she was in a mood to talk right now, and she had to admit she was exhausted.

Then, she remembered how rude she had been earlier, and the promise she’d made to talk later. Honestly, it might be good to speak with him. Maybe it would take her mind off of Henry, even for a brief moment.

"Yeah, I'm awake." She rolled over to face him, caught immediately in his piercing blue gaze. His face was drawn, jaw clenched. His eyes travelled over her face, eyebrows furrowed. It looked like he was seriously pondering something. Either that or he was sick.

"Hook, are you okay?" Emma asked carefully.

He paused for a second, as if he didn't quite register what she was saying. Distantly, he replied, "Aye, love, I'm alright. Just.. deciding."

_ So, not sick . That would be one too many punches in the gut. _

Emma got up and walked over to him, sitting down once more in the dirt next to him.

"What is it?" she asked, both warily and intently. She had to admit, she was curious. Something was bothering him, and seeing him worried was more than a little unsettling to her.

"Well, I suppose..." he stopped again, and the sudden fear in his eyes threw Emma off guard. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but wasn't sure if that was the right move. Killian continued, "Since you shared your secrets in the dark, I suppose it's my turn."

Emma blinked in surprise. "No, Killian, you don't have t-"

"I’ll be quick, Swan. I know you’re tired, as am I. It’s been quite the day, to say the least. Besides, love, I want to." He made her decision for her, taking the initiative and grasping her hand.

Emma smiled lightly. Although she wasn't sure what she was about to hear, she felt like she  _ needed  _ to hear it. She  _ needed  _ someone to understand the emotional roller coaster her life had been, and she had a strange suspicion that Killian needed that, too.

He looked into her eyes. Emma didn't know what to make of it. Her natural implication was to close herself off, keep herself from everyone. So when she told a fraction of her tale, she turned her eyes away. If she wasn't looking at him, she could treat the situation like she was talking to herself, like nobody else was there.

But Killian naturally opened up to those he trusted (and there was no question now that Emma was one of those chosen few). When he told a story, he owned it. His tale belonged to him, and he treated it that way. It was honestly a little fascinating.

“When I was a child, around nine or so, my father, my brother Liam, and I were on a ship. We were traveling to who knows where, in the middle of a storm,” Killian began, his eyes taking on a glazed quality. He was lost in memory, far away on the high seas.

“I awoke, frightened by the sounds of the thunder. My father came down, he told me to be brave, that everyone was braver than they thought they were.” Killian paused for a second, a less wistful, colder expression taking over his features. Emma furrowed her brows but waited for him to continue, to explain his story. “I told him I wanted to be just like him,” Killian said shortly. His tone was dark, his eyes churning with emotion.

Based on the rage in Killian’s face, Emma had a vague idea of where this was going. What she couldn’t understand was the guilt that was present in his eyes and the downturn of his mouth. Adjusting slightly to sit closer to him, she looked off into the distance, imagining his story as he told it. She could almost see the frightened young boy with the piercing blue eyes.

“I drifted off to sleep again. I always found the waves comforting, which I suppose makes sense.” A smile flitted across his features; he glanced at Emma as she let a small grin creep across her own face. Of course, out of everything, the ocean sent him to sleep. The man was born to live on ships.

Killian’s face fell into a hard mask, and he said, “When I woke up a few hours later, my father wasn’t there. It seemed that he had disappeared without a trace, and that’s what I thought. I thought he’d been taken.” Hook shook his head.

After a moment of pause, Emma asked tentatively, “What happened to him?”

He looked back at her. “A man called Captain Silver came down the stairs and told me that my father sold Liam and I into his ‘care.’ Slavery was more like it.”

Emma blinked in surprise. “What? Why?” she asked. For a man that, from the very little she knew about him, was at least cordial to his sons,  _ selling his children _ seemed extremely out of character, not to mention completely barbaric.

Killian looked at her and knew exactly what she was thinking. Emma hated how much he could tell about her from just one glance, but in this moment, she couldn’t find it in herself to mind at all. “I didn’t believe it either. He wasn’t a perfect father, Swan, but I did love him, and for a long time I believed he loved us.” At Emma’s understanding nod, Hook proceeded, “Apparently, Brennan Jones was a long-time fugitive, constantly on the run. It’s why I was raised on the seas in the first place. In the night, he discovered that officers would be waiting at the docks. How they discovered he was coming, I’ll never know. But Captain Silver tipped my father off, and he offered to sell us in exchange for a rowboat. The captain took the deal, and Liam and I were taken from our lives and from our ship. We watched it sail away, unmanned, as we joined Captain Silver and his crew.”

Killian’s brows were furrowed now, and the trauma, even after so many years, showed plainly on his face. Emma squeezed his hand and said, “Hook, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

Hook looked at her gratefully. “It’s quite alright, Swan. It was a long time ago. I… I’ve found… closure now. In a sense.”

Emma raised one eyebrow incredulously at his hesitance, his careful choice in wording.

Killian smiled softly. “A story for another time, love.” Emma nodded. “Anyway, Captain Silver’s care wasn’t the best of places to be, to put it lightly. Granted, he taught us a lot, but…” Hook paused, trying to decide how to go on.

Emma was beginning to understand what was happening. Little aspects of Hook’s personality were all falling into place. His sometimes insufferable bravado was just a mask to cover a surprising amount of pain and vulnerability. His sharp wit was formed from years where he was forced to be silent. Emma almost hated to admit that they were more similar than she’d originally thought. No wonder he called her an “open book.” Looking at her was basically like looking in a mirror.

“He hurt us, Swan. Liam and I. If we didn’t work fast enough, if we didn’t do our job well enough… Well, I still have the scars, decades later,” he finished, looking at her, judging her expression. He noted her stormy eyes under her guarded facade.

“I’m sorry, Killian,” she said with gritted teeth.

“Don’t be. I’m fine now, aren’t I?” he griped, a flash of his usual manner shining through.

She inclined her head disapprovingly at him, calling him on his lie.

He nodded in acquiescence, letting the smile slide from his face. “He always threatened us, saying he’d kill our father… saying… he told my brother that he’d kill me in a second if he tried to escape. I followed Liam everywhere; I was his weak spot as he was mine. Liam and I were with him for five years. Five very long years.” Killian stopped to clear his throat. “Until, on a stormy night, my brother woke me up after a particularly grueling day. He basically dragged me overboard with him. We were anchored about two miles off the shore of some small island. We swam for our lives. We almost didn’t make it because the salt water stung our backs so much.”

Emma leveled him with a sharp gaze then, one full of shock and mild confusion. Was he implying…

“He whipped us, love,” he explained in a whisper. “Wasn’t the first time, but everyone has a breaking point, and that was my brother’s.”

Emma was stunned into silence. How could she respond to being told that the man had been  _ tortured _ for years as a kid? She didn’t think there was a right thing to say, if there was anything at all. God, what kind of response could she give to that?

She sighed. It certainly made things more clear. Made  _ him  _ more clear. Everything was clicking into place. How he could read her like a book after one meeting, how his overzealous bravado clashed with sudden moments of sincere clarity, how… how had she been so oblivious? Their stories had a lot in common, many of the experience leaving similar marks on their souls. “Killian, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. It was a long time ago,” he assured her. “I’ve long since recovered.”

“Hook, you and I both know that’s not true,” she said wryly before she could bite it back. He’d been so kind to her; she didn’t want to overstep or have him read her as insensitive.

To Emma’s relief, he let out a huff of laughter and nodded. “You’re right. But, I have… developed ways to cope. To get the nightmares to stop.”

“What ways?” she asked. She’d come up with her own, but they usually involved alcohol or sleeping meds, neither of which she had, and neither of which were healthy.

Hook looked at her, the corner of his mouth pulling up a bit as he reveled in their newfound easy conversation. “You’re already doing it, love. Talking it out with someone. Being vulnerable. I’ve found, if somebody else knows even a fraction of what’s affecting you, the burden isn’t all on your shoulders anymore. It keeps the dreams at bay for a while. Not forever, but enough time to get a reprieve.”

Emma looked away thoughtfully. She did feel rested, better, all things considered. Even though she’d hated almost every second of spilling her secrets with a burning passion, it had made her feel better. And more importantly, it made her  _ exhausted. _

“Or, you get some closure,” he said with a raised eyebrow and a hardened tone.

“Closure?” Emma asked skeptically.

“Find the bastard that hurt you and give him hell,” he said, bringing a flask out of his coat and taking a swig. When he offered it to Emma, she took it gratefully and took a moment to relish the sharp taste of rum sliding over her tongue.

“Captain Silver?”

Jones shook his head and took his drink back from Emma. “My father,” he replied regretfully. Everything in his face told her not to push the topic further.

“I don’t think I could look Larry in the face again,” she forced the words through her teeth.

Hook looked at her studiously for a moment before saying, “Then talking it is.” He leaned towards her and continued seriously, “I’m always here for that, Emma.”

And she believed him. She believed  _ Captain Hook _ more than she’d believed any fleeting friend throughout her life. And it felt strange, to say the least. But it was more refreshing than she’d ever admit, to him or anyone else. Emma just hoped she wouldn’t ruin it somehow. “Me too,” she answered, hoping she sounded less apprehensive than she felt.

Hook smiled, a real, honest smile. “Bloody hell, Emma. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

Emma tried and failed to keep from grinning back. She looked down into her lap. He was the last person she expected to be commiserating with in the middle of the night, not to mention the fact that they were talking about their  _ worst memories _ , the bleakest parts of their past _. _

They both looked around the group for a moment, listening to everyone breathe deeply in their sleep, as the horrible reason they were here began to sink in again. There was no break for them, unfortunately. At least, not yet.

“Swan. I know today didn’t work out as planned, but we’re going to find your son. And then we’re going to get the  _ hell _ off this island, where we can both get some peace.” He spoke with such determination that Emma couldn’t help but believe him. Or at least, she felt a little lighter. Her heart felt slightly less broken. There was still time. Henry was still alive. And she’d see him again, she’d hug him again.

“Killian, thank you.” She tried to push as much meaning into those few words as she could.

By the look in his blue eyes, he understood what she was getting at. “Of course, Emma. And thank you. You’ve not been in my life long, but it’s already better.”

Emma looked away from his intense gaze, face blushing red. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Her brain scrambled to find words that just weren’t there. But he had to know that she shared the thought. By the way his expression softened a little, she figured he’d understood some of her thoughts. If not all. That did seem to be how this usually went.

“Good night, Emma,” he said softly.

“Good night, Hook… Killian,” she responded. He laid down, and Emma left him to rest, finding a spot and readying herself for sleep.

With a smile and a sigh of relief, Captain Hook noted that the distance between the two of them had decreased by half. It was mere moments before his tired eyes closed and he fell asleep, his last sight being the calming cascade of Emma’s long, blonde hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked chapter 2! Feel free to comment if you'd like!  
> (Note: This is an unrevised repost of my old work that was originally put on fanfiction.net in 2014. Chapter 2 was finished in 2018.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 1!  
> (Note: This is an unrevised repost of my old work that was originally put on fanfiction.net in 2014.)


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